Tuesday, February 13, 2018

I am watching my children lip sync with pretend instruments to songs on Pandora. They are sweating and dancing, Keely's style is interpretive with intermittent somersaulting across the living room. Meanwhile Rhys is laying on the floor in the middle of it all looking at a Curious George coloring book eating his boogers. Vance, a part of the band, takes a stoic role, standing there moving only his lips while wearing a 4-inch wooden fish around his neck. Ryleigh plays any instrument necessary for the current song and effortlessly imagines nearby items fit the bill. Sadie plays pillow drums while sitting on a red plastic motorcycle while dressed like Frozen's Elsa.
It's raining outside, foggy and gray.
In here it's a weird concert with stage props and an artistic plot line that is obviously over my head. It's warm though. And comfortable. And even if I don't get what they are putting out, it's enjoyable to see them play, because I like the music and I know the band.
Lately, I've been in the Word more than usual. I've been rushing through my morning routine so I can sit down at the table with my breakfast drink and crack open my duct-taped book. I like it there. Much like the concert living room rock concert it confuses the heck out of me. So many parts I don't know what they mean or why God would do what he does, but I keep going back; determined to figure something out. I've begun exploring parts I've glossed over for years or avoided altogether. I've returned to the familiar underlinings, the tiny hearts, arrows convicting me of my need to love others more. I keep opening the Bible, again and again, because even if I don't always understand what the seemingly artistic plot is, I know the band and in this cold gray rainy world he sings of Love.

(This was originally written a couple of years ago, but for whatever reason I never published it. With my seven day posting promise, I am counting this as good.)

Monday, February 12, 2018

Because I am trying to post everyday I have taken to reading from my journals for inspiration. You know what? I have been writing about and asking God for the same things for a long time. He answers the prayers, but then I fall into the same patterns again. If you didn't read the dates on my entries you would think it was from the same time period, most likely from this week, but nah, it spans the last 3 decades. This could have something to do with the fact that I have been having babies for 20 years and I am stuck in some crazy remake of the movie "Groundhog's Day" Toddler Edition or that the same frustrations, the same tendencies rear their heads in my life again and again. I believe that there has been improvement and that I don't stay as long in the issues that plague me before I ask for help or move forward, but there is no mistake they are there and still the same. The same struggles, the same sin, the same unbelief, the same victories, the same repentance, the same celebrations. Maybe this says something about my immaturity and that my walk with God is not what it should be or maybe it's just the trajectory of a normal life. Maybe it doesn't shoot straight up or even have a steady consistent curved ascent. Maybe it's that we take 3 steps up the staircase of life and one step back down as we fight the battle, the boredom, the unbelief, and then we take another 3 steps up. Maybe life is more like a sine wave where we praise God from the spiritual mountain tops and ask where he is in the valley and beg to catch a glimpse of him. Where we get dinner on the table and the laundry washed, folded and realize we haven't showered in over 3 days. Where we think we have it all together because our kid is wearing matching socks and then we see the mom on Instagram who is dressing her toddler in freaking white clothes. (Really, white? Are you even a human?) Anyway, my point is that I am working for progress not perfection. And maybe this sudden realization that I keep dealing with the same crap despite the decade can lend me some insight in how to deal even more quickly and get back on top of the waves or a bit further up the staircase.

Sunday, February 11, 2018

I still remember a dream I had when I was five, except for a long time I didn't know it was a dream; I believed that it really happened.

My mom and I were out back in the yard playing on a summer day. She said it was time to take a nap and we went into her room to lay down. I remember the white walls of her bedroom that needed a fresh coat of paint and the white thin blanket on the bed. I remember her falling asleep and me sneaking from the bed to continue playing outside. When I slid the screen door open and stepped onto the small wooden porch I looked to my left and down the four steps leading to the well worn path to our driveway. There at the bottom of the steps was a folding chair with a little boy sitting on it. The chair was one we used at holidays and when anyone came for dinner so we could all fit around our table. It was black metal with a gray hardly-padded cardboard seat cover with a splash of red paint on it right near the edge by his knee. He wore sneakers without socks, cutoff denim shorts and a shirt although I don't remember what it looked like. His arms were straight by his side grasping either side of the chair and on his head was a brown paper bag, like the kind we got our groceries in. He didn't say anything. He didn't move. I was afraid though. Panic welled up in me and to this day I can still remember the fear as I screamed trying to turn and run into the house while struggling with the screen door. I wasn't afraid because of surprise. I was afraid because I knew he was the Devil. I believed for whatever reason that the this kid on a chair in my yard was Satan. I felt the fear and the evilness and ran. My mom grabbed a crying me and pulled me into bed and held me until I fell asleep. When I woke up the chair was still there but the boy was gone. For years I didn't recognize it as a dream but as reality and refused to sit in that chair. Thirty Six years later I still feel that dream and if given the opportunity will sit in a different chair. (Yes, my parents still own it.)

*Love others well and the world will know you follow Jesus.
*Be patient and kind and the world will know you follow Jesus.
*Don't demand others see your point of view, just live out your convictions and the world will know you follow Jesus.
*Don't act rudely, be jealous, or brag about your accomplishments and belongings and the world will know you follow Jesus.
*Don't hold grudges or be easily irritated and the world will know you follow Jesus.
*Rejoice when truth wins, not when injustice reigns and the world will know you follow Jesus.
*Don't give up, don't lose faith, and bear every hardship in life with the hope of better things to come and the world will know you follow Jesus.

Friday, February 9, 2018

Too often I get hung up on thinking that this space has to be pretty, lengthy, and somewhat cohesive. I'm not sure why because these boundaries are stifling and then I don't write anything. So I am going to brain dump every day for the the next seven days as an experiment of sorts. To push past the imaginary fence posts I have erected and I'm not going to paint the barn, ie. not polish my words. Let's see where this takes us. Maybe nowhere. Maybe I'll just have seven days of random posts and then I won't post again for another year. Either way it isn't going to matter because this doesn't have to be pretty, lengthy, or cohesive.

We are to be agents of God's plan to give himself to a hurting world--a world that desperately yearns for a wholeness and rightness that can only come from him. When we serve as his representatives to alleviate the struggle and pains of those in need we create this dynamic that automatically draws others in. There are those who benefit from the service that find help and healing through having a need met and there are those who want to join in helping others. In both of these instances relationships are initiated and fostered. As we live authentic lives alongside others we are given opportunities to share our beliefs and hopes. Those that agree with our belief system will desire to know more and want to fulfill the calling God has put on their lives. This recognition of purpose then creates a space to corporately wrestle through the ambitious and challenging writings of scriptures and to apply them to our lives, as difficult as that can be. When those that don't share in our belief system continue to engage with us in service and relationship a symbiotic connection occurs. They enrich our lives because of who they are while holistically challenging our walk with God, in turn, hopefully they benefit from the kindness of God, a healthy equally challenging friendship, all while achieving His purpose through acts of service. It's a win-win. Seismic waves that ripple from our lives, resonate with others and waves of God's love concentrically reach those surrounding them and so on it goes. When the church's purpose is service, disciples of Christ are made, lives are transformed and his kingdom is brought closer to the here and now.

"Historically, religion has more often been a belonging system or a belief system, than an actual system of transformation. When belonging and believing is your primary concern, you do not really need healing or growth, or even basic spiritual curiosity. All your homework is done for you and handed to you. If you let the group substitute for your own inner life or your own prayer journey, all you need to do is attend." - Richard Rohr

Thursday, February 2, 2017

“Grace before Social Services” has become somewhat of
a motto in my house or at least in my own mind.
It probably lends more insight into the parenting of my seven, soon-to-be eight, children than
I care to admit, but it’s a principle I want to exercise because I so much want
others to reciprocate it. It’s an
up-to-date version of “walk a mile in another person’s shoes.” We don’t do this enough in today’s
society. We barely walk, let alone slip
on and lace up another’s kicks on our own pedicured feet. The tendency of

late, is to automatically
assume the worst of others and situations.
In general, we lack grace—and dare I say it—especially those of us who
self-identify as Christians! Ever read
the comments section on a news story or on Facebook? Then you know that what I am talking about is
true—crushing. People demanding justice,
monolouging online the error of everyone’s way, and the irony of this; this
behavior is the exact opposite of what we want so badly. We want people to
think and desire the best for us, to conversate with us, and listen to us. We want cheerleaders, encouragers, mentors,
and realistic grace-filled friends. Grace-filled strangers would be even
better. Amen? However, it seems that the exact opposite is
happening. Empathy has seemingly left
the building and armchair activism has taken its place.

One of my friends works at a child development
center. She adores her job and all the
little ones she gets to love on. It
suits her mama bear personality well. As
she was recounting various stories to me about the darndest things kids say and
the crazy things they do, she told me about a little guy that shirked away from
her when she reached for his arm to get him out of harm’s way. She inquired as to what was wrong with his
arm and he told her he had a really awesome tattoo and his mom removed it. My friend asked if she could see his boo-boo
and as he lifted his sleeve, she could see that his bicep was red and swollen
and even looked a bit blistered. Probing
deeper, she asked how his mom removed it. He replied, “with an eraser.”

Gasp! I am sure
that as you read this you are probably grabbing your chest in horror as you
imagine an angry mumbling mom with a Papermate Pink Pearl Premium eraser
rubbing aggressively on a preschooler’s arm.
At least that’s where my thoughts went. I was hoping that my friend
dialed the phone right then and there to Social Services. This woman was obviously dangerous. Concerned,
she continued her Sherlock Holmes style investigation and found out the eraser was
the white Magic kind, which left the little guy with a chemical burn in place
of his temporary tat.

Magic Eraser!? The brakes of my pessimistic imagination
came to a screeching halt and I told the lynch mob in my mind to lower the
pitch forks for a hot second while I figured some stuff out, because maybe this
mom was—even bigger gasp—like me. Say what you will, but this tattoo removal
process suddenly made complete sense to me.
The seemingly harmless rectangle that removes crayon from my wall would
probably do an amazing job getting off those supposedly temporary symbols that
taunt me with their longevity; lingering on my kid’s skin for weeks like bad
perfume in a cheap motel. I am not promoting using household cleaning supplies
for eradication, because chemical burns are a real thing, but if I’m being
honest, I would have totally done this! I
was most likely three or four kids into life before I learned about the danger
of chemical burns. Did this make me a
bad mom? No it made me a naïve one and there is a difference.

The realization that this could totally be my story,
pushed me to stop and ask if they had ever suspected abuse before? “No. Nothing.” My friend answered, “In fact,
she’s really great with him and always sweet to the staff.”

She continued to tell me that she called in coworkers
to examine his arm, they took pictures and prepared to call the Child Welfare Department,
but first someone suggested they phone the director of the center who was on vacation. At this point in the story I am hanging on
every word and cringing, because what if the mom really did have a lapse in
judgement? Was the government going to take away her boy for an unintentional
mistake? The crisis was adverted when the center director after reviewing the
photos and hearing the details, told them to record the information in his file
and to talk with the mom to see if the stories matched. At the end of the day, they erred on the side
of grace, before making a possible life-altering phone call. When asked that
evening, the mama embarrassingly shared her mistake and thankfully she left the
center with her little guy to enjoy dinner together and their normal bedtime
rituals.

I am not trying to downplay the possible seriousness
of the matter, the potential for abuse is a reality, and there is definitely a
time to phone our friends at Social Services. What I am suggesting is
that before we call assuming the worst of someone, before we write an outline
for our standards on how to be better humans, could we speak in love with
individuals, entertaining the thought that there might be more to the
story? Could we slip our foot into the shoe
of another for a moment and consider the process that led up to the now?

Eugene Petersen’s The Message phrases the words of
Paul in the beginning of Galatians 6 perfectly and points to a life embracing
the “Grace before Social Services” principle:

“Live creatively,
friends. If someone falls into sin, forgivingly restore him, saving your
critical comments for yourself.Youmight be needing forgiveness before
the day’s out. Stoop down and reach out to those who are oppressed. Share their
burdens, and so complete Christ’s law. If you think you are too good for that,
you are badly deceived.”

Live creatively, because empathy requires imagination. To be able to
identify with others and their possible motives for their actions we need to
imagine what they could be feeling or thinking.
It’s grown-up imaginary play or as I prefer to call it, mind LARPing
(Live Action Role Play, minus the costumes).
Whether we realize it or not we do it all the time. For example, my son, Jace, is late getting
home from work and didn’t reply to my text, it’s raining outside and I am
certain he is dead in a ditch on the side of a windy back road. In my mind, I see the police car turning in
my drive, a knock on the door by a uniformed officer has me collapsing to the
ground on the entry carpet between a pile of coats and boots wondering if he
suffered for very long before meeting Jesus.
Here’s another one; my friend hasn’t responded to my texts and she
always replies quickly. I glue the phone
to my hip waiting for the magical “you’ve got a text” chime, but meanwhile I begin
a laundry list of possible offenses I could have committed, because surely that
is the only reason she wouldn’t reply. We don’t know the reality of the situation but
we build off of what we know, our past experiences, or worst yet, our fears to
answer the unknown. Our creativity is wasted on the negative, but what if
instead we ran the situations through a positive filter. Our thought life would dramatically change
and go something like this; Jace is a responsible kid and a defensive driver
I’m glad he doesn’t answer my texts when he is driving. Maybe with it raining
like it is, he is helping salamanders cross the roads before they get hit by
cars. Such a good kid. My friend must
have taken the homeschool lessons to the outdoors on this beautiful day or
maybe she ran to the post office with that pile of packages in her office, I
know she’s been putting it off. I’ll
check back in a couple hours after I get dinner ready. This way of thinking
allows our creativeness to assume the best of others and ourselves. The reality of the situation is still unknown
but our imagination crafts a story framed in grace by utilizing what we know,
past experiences and our hopes, not our fears and paranoia.

Restore others. If you
believe in Christ and have been walking with him for a while you know there is
nothing beyond his restorative power. We
need to speak that power over people, because restoration is encouraging. Believe it or not most people are aware of
their faults and mistakes, we don’t need to set up pie charts and board
meetings to make everyone else aware.
What most don’t know is that beyond the faults and screw-ups there is a
hope and a great love. Another
translation says to “gently and humbly help the person back on the right
track.” Judgment is far from humble or
graceful and it’s not our job, most of us want it to be, so many of us think we
are chief judge (ahem, comment trolls), but the truth is, it belongs to God
alone. Ironic that most tattoo parlors get that word out about this better than
churches, “Only God can judge me.” Don’t
go collecting the unemployment check yet, we still have a job; love God; love
people—want for them the same stuff you want for you. Simply put; Praise
God! Encourage folks! If you don’t have
anything nice to say, figure out something nice to say!

Examine yourself. Maybe,
just maybe it is possible that you could wind up in the same situation. “Well, Erica,” you might be thinking, “your
example of the mom was an accident, she didn’t know any better, what about
people who choose to do sinful
things? I know better, that wouldn’t be
me.” To that I reply, “Oh, do you
now?” Funny how we know things are
wrong, but yet we do them anyway. My boy
Paul says in Romans 7, “I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what
is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I
do what I hate.” Every morning I wake up
with the best intentions of being a great person and living for God and then I
walk out my bedroom door. Life comes at
me and the battle with my sinful nature begins. I know it’s not right to speed,
but I’m late for an appointment and I push the gas pedal a bit further than
allowed. I know I shouldn’t yell at my
kids, but for the fifth time this week an entire roll of toilet paper has
mysteriously found its way into the commode and one of my precious offspring
has decided to repeatedly flush in an effort to help. Maybe for some it’s bigger than plumbing
induced screams, maybe it’s I know I shouldn’t take a hit of this joint or my
nightly glass of wine is turning into a nightly bottle of wine, but I just need
to make it through the crazy that is my life.
Or, I know that this relationship is not healthy but this guy at work
seems interested in getting to know me for me and it makes me feel young and
important again. Failure and mistakes
are not very far from any of us, in fact they are like mythological sirens
singing to us waiting for us to follow their songs, disguising the dangerous as
harmless or necessity.

Stoop down, reach out, share burdens. You might be thinking, “Ain’t nobody got time
for that.” You’re right, we don’t have
time for it. You’ve got to make time for
it. Reaching out and sharing burdens
means relationship. It’s tedious and
time consuming and most times really hard work, but all good things are. Wanting the best for someone, like really
truly wanting the best for another human, means giving the best of ourselves
and get this, giving the worst too. We
are not saviors, Jesus has that job. Remember ours? Lovers.
We are called to love God and love people. So instead of pretending we have our crap all
together we need to be honest. Share our
struggles, our weaknesses, our failures because this is what makes us
human. This is what makes us
relatable. This is what makes real
relationship. When we humble ourselves
and begin to let people see behind the velvet curtain of our lives, our God
suddenly become more attainable and their lives might not seem so sucky after
all. People don’t need handouts they
need hands out to help lift them up and then, at least for me, I want that hand
to hold mine and journey with me at least for a little while.

Don’t think yourself better than. In Deuternonomy 17
Moses relays the message from God that if when they enter the Promised land and
are tempted to get a king then they need to make sure that he copies for
himself “this body of instruction” which were the laws of the time. The newly selected King would need to do his
copy work in the presence of the Levitical priests for accountability. After he wrote it all down, which certainly
had to be a task, that scroll had to always be with him and he was to read it
daily because as Moses wrote, “this regular reading will prevent him from
becoming proud and acting as if he is above his fellow citizens.” (Deut. 17:20) I profess to know pretty much
nothing about monarchial societies, but I would assume that the king of a
kingdom would definitely carry some leverage and would be held in higher esteem
by the people than an everyday worker.
However, in God’s plan he says the king and the peasant are equal. In Proverbs 22:2 It says, “the rich and the
poor have this in common; the lord made them both.” Children’s author Taro Gomi puts it this way,
“Everybody poops.” God wanted to make
sure that the king should not think or feel he is above everybody else, there
was an equality regardless of class, assignment, or position. People, we’re equal.

Grace before Social Service. This
motto, isn’t for chumps and it can’t be done alone. We need others to encourage us when life gets
tough, to help us up when the world beats us down, and share stories so that we
know we are not alone. Most of all we
need God to help us live creatively and love well, because this is hard stuff
and it stretches us outside the safe boundaries of our comfort zone. It also knocks us
off the pedestal we have unintentionally, or maybe even intentionally, found
ourselves upon. Jesus tells us in
Matthew 7:1- 2 that if we don’t judge others, we won’t be judged. However, if we choose to not heed the warning
and start dispensing our arbitrary opinions, well then we need to be prepared,
because the standard we use in judging others is the same standard which we
will be judged by. Together we can do
this. We can extend one another grace
before assuming the worst of each other and in doing so can avoid causing
additional harm. We’ve got to love, it’s
that simple.

Here’s some additional encouragement:

Galatians
6:2-3 Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.
If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling
yourself. You are not that important.

1
Corinthians 10:24 Don’t be concerned for your own good but for the good of
others.

Galatians
5:14 For the whole law can be summed up in this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

1
Peter 3:8 Finally, all of you should be of one mind. Sympathize with each
other. Love each other as brothers and sisters. Be tenderhearted, and keep a
humble attitude

Friday, January 6, 2017

I’ve never done that before, but I know scores of others have selected a word instead of making a New Year’s resolution to keep them focused and headed in a direction they wish to go and want God to take them. Mine came before 2017 even hit, it started late in November, when twinkle lights started to appear on trees in the neighborhood windows.

I tend to be a bit more reflective during the Christmas season, perhaps bordering on melancholy, and this year was especially so. I was overwhelmed with the thought of buying my kids more stuff and them receiving more stuff from family members when my living room and their bedrooms already lay in shambles. I was questioning all things Christmas and trying to figure out how all our traditions and decorations really fit into our belief of honoring a Savior who came and is coming again. Even in my struggle, I allowed the kids to decorate the house for Christmas and because of my holiday funk, I did not withhold certain sentimental decorations I had protected from tiny hands in the past. Within the first week several of them were broken and I buried them beneath used coffee filters and paper plates. At first I shed some tears at their internment, but then as more snowmen and Christmas mice gathered into the plastic bag graveyard I didn’t care—I actually wanted to dump it all in there. I wanted to sweep furniture tops of holiday cheer and rip paper snowflakes off of walls and just be done with all of it except for a simple lit tree. I didn’t do it. I felt torn between simplicity and emotional guilt. I kept the decorations on practically every flat surface of my home so the children could enjoy holiday whimsy, but soon hallelujah angels and joyful shepherds from years gone by were heading to their final destination of a landfill.

It's no secret that documentaries lead to major life changes for me, hence the reason our family has been vegetarian for over four years. A week before Christmas I watched a documentary on minimalism titled Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things. Something in me started to churn and I began to understand what my internal conflict was stemming from. I have always found the lifestyle of a minimalist very appealing, yet impossible. I love stuff and although I try not to shop big box stores for things other than food, I frequent thrift stores at least every other month and come home with a haul of treasures. The other reason I think becoming a minimalist is farfetched is because we are a family of ten. I can easily limit my stuff and the babes in my belly, but everyone else needs to weigh in on their belongings and they aren’t going without a fight. Regardless, I thought I could work on me and I started in my closet and I got rid of two big trash bags full which didn't appear to make a dent. Frustrated by the lack of visible progress I felt defeated. Brynna gently reminded me that, “progress is progress, no matter how small.” Encouraged, I kept going.

I began looking for more tangible results; I moved to the bathroom counter and ruthlessly tossed lotions never used and makeup from years ago. My counter that was once covered in half empty containers, disgarded clothing and jewelry, and beauty products was now totally visable. When I walk into my bathroom, I feel the difference, I feel sane and I like it. I didn’t get rid of every decoration or every lip gloss, but I did get rid of the useless and ugly. Some might claim this not to be minimalism and honestly I don’t want to label myself something restrictive so have decided that instead of aiming for minimalism I could shoot for a more doable goal of simplifying.

Simplify.

That's my 2017 word.

I have been taking life a drawer and a shelf at a time and pairing down what I don’t need, what I don’t think is beautiful, what doesn’t make me feel good, or that I don’t think I will realistically use. I am currently over 12 trash bags of clothing and housewares to a local mission and several eBay sales into the process of simplifying. I am working on my stuff, but letting everyone know what it is that I am doing in hopes they will jump on board. The results are becoming visible too. Some of the children are more hesitant about the shedding of items than others, but they too are making small steps. To make it more understandable I have been reading a children’s book every day with the younger kids that has a simplifying/minimalistic theme and sharing what God’s word has to say about our stuff and our hearts.

Here are the books:

The Biggest House in the World by Leo Lionni is the story of a snail who learns that bigger can be crushing. My kids are still talking about the surprise ending of the story within this story.

The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch is a tale of a princess who loses her belongings, but never her wit or the desire to do what is right. The book and illustrations look a bit dated, but the lesson learned is timeless.

The Gift of Nothing by Partick McDonnell is about a cat who wants to honor his friend who has everything by giving him the gift of nothing. Simple drawings add to the charm of this short story.

More by I.C. Springman a sweet story with fantastic illustrations about a bird and his treasures.

The Quiltmaker’s Gift by Jeff Brumbeau won book of the year for a reason. This story has artwork that could draw you in for hours and the storyline is even more powerful. Having it all does not bring happiness.

Too Many Toys by David Shannon is probably most humorous for parents as it pokes fun at all the trouble we go through in trying to get our kids to part with toys. The story is a good jumping point for discussing how we acquire so much and the importance of imagination.

Next to read on our list is The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. A classic story from 1943 that skillfully shares what is really important in this life.

The Bible verses we have been discussing so far are:

Luke 12:15 “Then he (Jesus) said, ‘Beware! Guard against every kind of greed. Life is not measured by how much you own.’'

1 Timothy 6:5b-8 “…To them, a show of godliness is just a way to become wealthy. Yet true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it. So if we have enough food and clothing, let us be content.”

Matthew 6:19-21 “Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them and where thieves break in and steal. Store your treasures in heaven where moths and rust cannot destroy and thieves do not break in and steal. Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.”

Matthew 16:26 “And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul?”

Mark 10:17-22 “As Jesus was starting out on his way to Jerusalem, a man came running up to him, knelt down, and asked, ‘Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ ‘Why do you call me good?’ Jesus asked. ‘Only God is truly good. But to answer your question, you know the commandments: “You must not murder. You must not commit adultery. You must not steal. You must not testify falsely. You must not cheat anyone. Honor your father and mother.”’ ‘Teacher,’ the man replied, ‘I’ve obeyed all these commandments since I was young.’ Looking at the man, Jesus felt genuine love for him. ‘There is still one thing you haven’t done,’ he told him. ‘Go and sell all your possessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.’ At this the man’s face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions.”

I’ve been studying and meditating on these scriptures as well, trying to muster courage to part with inanimate objects that clutter my house and heart, that have sat on shelves for fear of hurting someone’s feelings or afraid that I will forget the significance of the moment associated with the memory the piece instills. Even more so, I have been analyzing my actions and activities that keep me from the important moments of investing in people and creativity—there are too many of them. Things need to change, things need to get simpler because the things life throws at us certainly aren’t going to.

2017 has me working toward my word for the year, “Simplify." I don’t think I will meet minimalist status, but I recognize everytime I choose not to buy or bring something into the house; with each item that finds its way to the trash or goes to charity; by the paring down of unnecessary activities my life becomes a little bit simpler and my hope is that I draw closer to my family and my God.

Simplify.

Hey I would love it if you chimed in on the topic! I’ve been reading/listening to books on minimalism; The More of Less by Joshua Becker and The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo. If you know of any books, children or adult,on the subject that have impacted your walk toward simplifying let me know. I would also love to know the Bible verses that speak most to you about simplifying.